


Snow & Mistletoe

by ToBebbanburg



Series: Ink & Ivy Modern AU [4]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Andy/Quynh - Freeform, Found Family, M/M, Mentions of sex but no actual sex, and again not actually relevant for this fic, andy opens a bottle of champagne and thinks thats her work done, but mostly this is wholesome fluff, but theres mentions of joe and nicky switching, chill vibez, idk man I feel I should tag for that, improper use of potpourri, nicky cooks, nile/booker - Freeform, quynh microwaves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:34:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28030971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBebbanburg/pseuds/ToBebbanburg
Summary: Out of the regulars at The Old Guard, Nile is the only one who really celebrates Christmas. However, when her flight back to the States is cancelled the rest of the gang band together to give her the Christmas she deserves. Meanwhile Nicky and Joe argue about the optimum size for a Christmas tree and have a snowball fight.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Ink & Ivy Modern AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955659
Comments: 31
Kudos: 161





	Snow & Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> For those who haven’t read my earlier fic: Nicky’s a florist/cafe owner, Joe’s a tattoo artist, and they’ve been dating for a couple of months at this point. Andy and Quynh run a bar together and have been married for yeeaaars, and Nile and Booker have just started seeing each other.

Quick author's note: I haven’t really mentioned it in this fic, but the gang and their standings on Christmas are:  
Nicky: has mixed feelings about the whole thing, so prefers to spend his Christmas giving to other people and spending some quality reflective time alone.  
Joe: obviously doesn’t subscribe to the religious aspect, but loves swapping gifts with his friends and listening to pure XMas cheese on the radio. Secretly loves the seasonal lattes done at cafes but would never tell Nicky this.  
Nile: looooves Christmas. If she doesn’t attend midnight mass with her family she’ll go on Christmas day. She loves trashy holiday movies and decorations everywhere.  
Booker: at this point in his life, he only cares about Christmas in relation to his kids. Will make up dozens of ridiculous traditions for them to carry out and then neck the brandy they leave out on XMas Eve for Santa Claus.  
Andy: is very much over Christmas, but at the same time insists everyone celebrates too early and they should wait until 7th January as is right and proper.  
Quynh: Buddhist, but like Joe enjoys the holiday season. Her method of decorating involves tasteful Scandinavian scenes of majestic reindeer and evergreen wreaths, and she hates tinsel with a passion.

* * *

**December 1st**

“It’s too big.” Nicky said, looking up at the monstrosity of a fir tree that towered above him. “It’s barely going to fit inside.”

The delivery man shrugged and flipped through his chart, scanning the notes.

“2m. That’s what you ordered, that’s what you got.”

“2m... I asked for 2ft. I just wanted something small to put on the counter, not... this.” Nicky sighed in exasperation. He didn’t have anywhere near enough decorations for 2m worth of Christmas tree.

“Maybe your accent threw ‘em off.” The delivery man said. Nicky narrowed his eyes.

“It was an online order form.” He said, in the calm, flat tone that both Joe and Nile had informed him was absolutely terrifying.

“Sorry.” The delivery man had the good grace to look sheepish. “Just chop the top off and use that?” He suggested.

“Fine.” Nicky decided that it just wasn’t worth fighting over a tree this early in the morning. Besides, if he cut the very top off he could bundle the larger branches from the bottom into wreaths and sell them as decorations. Put some red ribbon or tinsel around a bit of miscellaneous foliage and the average Englishman would go mad for it this time of year.

He signed for the tree then stood staring at it for a solid minute, wondering if it would make sense to chop it up outside rather than attempt to wrestle it all inside. He was saved from having to make the decision by the sudden and welcome appearance of Joe, who gave a whoop of joy when he saw the tree and jogged down the street to reach it.

“Nice.” Joe said appreciatively, then turned and pecked Nicky on the lips. “Morning, babe.”

“Morning.” Nicky smiled. “Enjoy it while you can, I’m going to chop it up in a minute.”

“No, Nicky!” Joe sounded legitimately heartbroken. “Why?”

“It’s too big!” Nicky gestured at it. “I didn’t even want a tree, but Nile talked me into it but under the agreement that we’d get something small. Not something that requires me to move an entire table just to fit it inside the shop.”

“But it’s Christmas.” Joe pretended to pout. “Come on, you can’t call yourself a florist and not have a ridiculously large Christmas tree.”

“But I don’t have enough decorations for it.” Nicky tried to protest, but he could already feel his resolve waning. If Joe liked the tree...

“I’ve got more than enough.” Joe grinned.

That did it. Nicky was sold. The behemoth of a tree would be almost tolerable if Joe decorated it.

“All right then.” He relented. “But you’ve got to help me bring it in.”

“Oh that’s not a problem.”

Joe winked at Nicky then bent down and picked the entire tree up in one effortless motion. Nicky might have forgotten to breathe for a second. He took everything back: having a massive Christmas tree was a very good idea indeed.

*****

The tree, once Nicky had found a stand for it, had just enough clearance between the top and the ceiling to place a slightly battered papier-mâché star. He’d made it at school when he was six years old, and for his first Christmas away from home his mother had posted it to him, saying it would be nice to have a little reminder of home. Secretly, Nicky guessed that she’d been looking for an excuse to get rid of the star for years, but he didn’t mind. It _was_ nice to have something from home.

“Aw, cute.” Nile grinned when Nicky told her. “And a relief: for one horrible moment I thought you were going to tell me you made it recently.”

Nicky laughed. “Honestly, I don’t think my craft skills have improved. It would look much the same if I made it now.”

“Well. At least your other decorations are a bit more… professional.” Nile teased.

“Excuse you, I think you mean _my_ decorations.” Joe, who had decided that decorating Nicky’s tree was more important than opening his own shop, pretended to pout. He’d somehow managed to get glitter in his beard, and Nicky had to fight the urge to drag him into the storeroom and clean it off. With kisses.

“Care to tell Nile _why_ you have so many decorations?” Nicky prompted, a smile on his face.

“Because I messed up my own Christmas order and got twice as many as I bargained for.” Joe mumbled, purposefully muffling his words by burying his face in the decoration box. “ _But_ , clearly, on a subconscious level, I knew something like this would happen. And now both our shops match!”

“ _Almost_ match. At least _my_ tree is real.” Nicky reminded him. Joe pulled a face.

“I know. Sorry. But in my defence, this isn’t my holiday.”

“It’s not really mine either.” Nicky remarked. He felt rather than saw Nile’s mouth drop open. Nicky shrugged. “What? Christmas as we know it was cobbled together from pre-existing pagan traditions. A weird mash-up of Yule and Saturnalia dressed up to look like Catholicism to make the celebration of Jesus’ birth more palatable to the masses. Easter should actually be a much more important event in the Church’s calendar.”

“But you do celebrate Christmas somehow, right?” Nile asked aghast.

“Well, yes, in a way, but certainly not for an entire month.”

Nicky had fallen out with Christmas around the same time he fell out with the Church. The holiday had lost its spark after that, and all Nicky could see was the superficial posturing that bared little resemblance to what he had always believed was the true meaning of Christmas. Whilst Nicky was more than happy to make Christmas as bright and as cheerful as possible for everyone else, his own celebration of Christmas mostly revolved around quiet reflection.

“Do you go back to Italy for it?” Nile probed.

“Not usually.”

“Midnight mass?”

“Not since I was 18.”

“Tell me you at least cook Christmas dinner.”

“Oh, yes. I do that-.”

“Phew.” Nile laughed.

“-at the soup kitchen.” Nicky added.

Nile made an exasperated noise, and Joe rumpled Nicky’s hair fondly.

“That’s my boy.” Joe said, and Nicky gave him a smile.

“Well _I’m_ going back home, and I’m going to have a terribly commercial Christmas with carol singing and awful Hallmark movies and I intend to eat my own weight in chocolate.” Nile laughed. “And you’re both getting Christmas presents from me and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“It’s a terrible burden, but one I shall bear.” Joe said with a mock solemnity that he couldn’t quite keep up.

This, Nicky thoughtas they finished off decorating the tree, was really the heart of Christmas. Spending time with loved ones, making each other feel appreciated and safe. Nile tied a couple of the smaller baubles into her hair, and tried to do the same to Joe’s beard but only succeeded in getting more glitter in it. It meant that Joe’s beard glinted whenever it caught the light, drawing Nicky’s attention to Joe’s lips over and over.

“Well.” Joe said when the final bauble had been placed on the tree. “Guess I better open shop.”

“Mmm.” Nicky agreed. “But before you go, I need your help with something in the storeroom.”

*****

**December 20th**

“Joe.”

Nicky’s voice gently roused Joe from his dreams, and he sleepily reached his arms out, blindly searching for a hug. He felt Nicky crawl into his arms and he tightened his grip, slowly getting used to the idea of being awake.

“Joe, it’s snowing.”

Joe opened his eyes. Nicky was snuggled against his chest, his eyes bright and a smile playing on his lips as he looked up at Joe. He must have thrown the curtains open as grey morning light streamed into the room, and out of the window…

Snow. Snow covered everything, the roofs of houses and hoods of cars covered in a thick dusting of it, fat flakes of it falling slowly through the air. It was what Joe had been aching for ever since the start of December. It was beautiful.

“Nice.” Was the only thing his sleep-addled brain could provide, but Nicky grinned all the same.

“It is.” He agreed. “Do you want to go out?”

“In a bit.” Joe said. It was a Sunday and he was in no rush to do anything anywhere, and lying in bed watching the snow with Nicky seemed like a perfect way to start the morning. He felt Nicky move to sit up and tightened his grip around him, trying to keep his wonderful warmth close for just a little bit more. Nicky laughed and lightly slapped the backs of Joe’s arms and Joe reluctantly let him go. Nicky sat up and reached for something, then turned back to Joe, his hands holding out a mug.

“I thought you might say that, so I brought you coffee.” Nicky said.

Joe struggled into an upright position and took the cup. “You’re the best.” He said. “Have I told you that before?”

“Once or twice. But do feel free to tell me again.” Nicky teased.

“You’re the best.” Joe repeated. He took a sip of his coffee and let out a groan of appreciation. “Actually, this is the best. But you’re a close second.”

“I’ll take it.”

Nicky snuggled back into Joe’s side and picked up his own coffee, his eyes firmly fixed on the snow outside. Joe kissed him lightly on the head then drank his coffee, feeling rather like he was on the front of a rather twee Christmas card. He didn’t mind that image.

He’d been entranced by snow ever since he was a child, obsessed first with the way it could cover the entire city like a blanket then later by the way every flake was a delicate and intricate geometric pattern. Snow had always seemed like a gateway to another world to Joe, a world where anything could be hidden behind those thick swirls of frost. The magic of snow had never quite left him, even as an adult.

The magic, however, did tend to disappear as soon as Joe actually set foot in the snow. It was fine if he was bundled up warm and the snow was crisp and fresh, but as he and Nicky took a walk around the park to enjoy the weather it soon transpired that the paths offered little more underfoot than slush. Snow never really lasted long in England, which was a damn shame in Joe’s mind. And a nuisance.

Joe made a disappointed noise as a particularly deep section of slush squelched over the top of his boot and soaked into his sock.

“Horrible.” He assessed, wriggling his toes inside his boot. “We should turn back.”

“I thought you loved the snow.” Nicky teased.

“I do.” Joe protested. “I love how it looks, and I love walking in it, but… I guess I also fundamentally hate the cold.”

Nicky laughed at him, and Joe had to join in. It did sound ridiculous now that he said it out loud.

“The best way to enjoy snow is to take a brisk twenty minute walk in it, then head home before your feet freeze and enjoy the rest of the weather from the comfort of a heavy blanket and mug of hot chocolate.” Joe elaborated.

“Well,” Nicky considered Joe’s words, blinking away the snowflakes on his eyelashes in a ridiculously adorable move, “we’ve done the walk, and I have _many_ heavy blankets back at mine. Shall we?”

“Do you not want to stay out a little longer?” Joe asked. As much as the slush at the bottom of his sock was uncomfortable, he’d gladly stick it out for a while if Nicky wanted to enjoy the snow some more. As it was, he was more than a little relieved when Nicky shook his head.

“I think I’ve had enough.” He turned to look at Joe with a dangerous glint in his eye, and slipped his gloved hand from Joe’s. “Or at least, I think I will have in a minute.”

Before Joe could react Nicky had ducked down and scooped some of the cleaner snow up into a neat snowball, which he hurled at Joe and then ran away to a safe distance. Ah. So it was like _that_.

Safe in the knowledge that he’d soon be home and dry again, Joe had no qualms in gathering up his own snowy ammunition and chasing after Nicky. It was a brutal battle by all accounts: Nicky’s aim was far too good for someone who frequently walked into the edges of his own cafe tables, and Joe started to suspect that his “lack of spatial awareness” was more an “unwillingness to bother avoiding things”. He managed to finally get his revenge by jumping on Nicky and shoving a handful of snow down the back of his shirt- the way Nicky yelped and curved away from the cold and _into Joe_ was almost worth the pelting he had endured to reach that point. They hurried back to Nicky’s house after that, changing into warm, dry clothes as soon as they got inside.

“This,” Joe said, as he wormed his cold feet under Nicky’s legs, “is the best bit about snow.”

Nicky laughed, and shifted slightly so that Joe could get comfy. Joe sighed contentedly and wriggled his toes. That was much better. He was warm and dry, and behind Nicky the snow swirled on beyond the window.

“Perfect.” He said. “If only-“ he looked around the room, a slight frown on his face.

“If only you had this?” Nicky asked, reaching for Joe’s sketchpad that had been kicked under the coffee table at some point during the previous day’s make-out session. He handed it over to Joe, who’s face split into a broad smile.

“You’re a mind reader, Nicolò.”

“Only _your_ mind.” Nicky corrected with a slight smile. He reached over again to retrieve his own book, an Italian novel that Joe couldn’t translate but judging by the cover art could only be classed as a bodice ripper. He had so far refused to tell Joe what it was about, but had no shame at all in bringing it everywhere with him. Joe loved it.

He spent a happy half hour sketching away, slowly filling the page in front of him with a mixture of realistic drawings and abstract doodles. There was a sketch of Nicky reading in the middle, then an isolated sketch of his hands around his book a little to the side. Joe had drawn the folds of Nicky’s curtains over and over along the bottom of the page, then decided to be cover every blank bit of paper left with variations on geometric snowflakes.

Behind Nicky, the curtains were left wide open so that Joe could enjoy the sight of fat white flakes slowly drifting down to the ground. He felt cosy and content and ready for a nap, but before he could set his sketchpad down for good he remembered that Nile was due to catch her flight home very shortly. He dug out his phone and quickly fired off a message, noticing that Nicky followed suit.

_Joe: How’s the journey going, Nile? Boarded yet?_

_Nile: Yup!_

_Nile: Plane’s a bit iced up, but apparently once we get it de-iced we should be on our way. Last flight back to the US by the sounds of things…_

_Nicky: Fingers crossed for you_

_Joe: ^^^ what he said x_

_Andy: Better text us when you land, kiddo_

_Nile: I will, dw_

_Nile: God, bad weather makes me nervous flying_

_Booker: it’ll be fine_

_Booker: did you know the tips of jet engines are made of rubber to help break up chunks of ice so you can still fly in freezing conditions_

_Andy: Nobody knew that, Booker, because nobody cares_

_Joe: I care :)_

_Andy: well that makes one_

_Quynh: I bet Nile cares too ;)_

_Quynh: Nile?_

_Nicky: She must have taken off_

_Andy: Is she not on one of those fancy planes with wifi?_

_Booker: can’t use it during take-off, messes with the electronics and can cause total system failure_

_Nicky: I’m pretty sure that’s a myth_

_Quynh: I think you’re myth-taken_

_Joe: Nice_

_Andy: Nice_

_Nile: So the de-icer machine crashed into our plane and grounded us and now the trains aren’t running either and I think I’m just going to have to spend Christmas in the airport_

_Booker: hold tight im coming_

_Booker: nicky i need your car_

“I think,” Joe said, putting his phone down. “I know neither of us really celebrate Christmas properly but I think this year we should. For Nile. I can’t imagine how she must feel right now, and I want to do something.”

Nicky nodded, his mouth twitching into a small smile as he met Joe’s eyes.

“Absolutely. We can’t let her go through Christmas alone.” Nicky agreed. “We can steal the decorations from our shops and bring them here, and I’ll work out what on earth Americans eat at Christmas.”

“We should have her over to stay Christmas eve too.” Joe mused. “Given that the buses won’t be running. If you cook, I’ll tidy that spare room of yours up into something respectable.”

“It’s not _that_ bad.” Nicky said.

“You can’t see the bed, habibi.”

“Fair enough.” Nicky snorted. “Do you want to text her or should I?”

“I’ll do it now.” Joe took his phone out of his pocket, then laughed as he saw the screen. “Actually, forget everything. Looks like Andy beat us to it.”

“Oh.” Nicky sounded a little disappointed, his eyes casting downwards towards his lap. “Well at least Nile will have someone to share Christmas with.”

“Many people.” Joe corrected, unable to stop his grin as he handed his phone to Nicky to see for himself. “She’s invited us all.”

*****

**December 25th**

Joe woke up on Christmas morning to the smell of coffee and warm pastry. He opened his eyes to see Nicky carefully perching a tray on his side of the bed, his hair neatly combed and his cheeks flushed with red like he’d been outside. Joe hadn’t even heard him leave, but dimly remembered Nicky saying the night before that he had to run old Mrs Flynn to her daughter’s in the morning. Joe smiled lazily up at him and opened his arms in welcome.

“Come back to bed.” He said. “You look cold.”

“A little.” Nicky admitted, leaning forward to kiss Joe lightly on the lips. “Morning.” He said.

“Buon Natale.” Joe replied, and Nicky beamed at him.

“Thanks, Joe.”

To Joe’s immense disappointment Nicky turned away from him and left the bed entirely, but his disappointment was short-lived as Nicky ducked under his bed and emerged with a bundle of brightly wrapped presents. Nicky smiled tentatively as he shuffled back onto the bed, making sure not to hit the breakfast tray as he did so, and Joe’s heart melted as Nicky offered him the presents as if afraid he’d turn them down.

“I know you don’t really celebrate Christmas, but for me today is all about giving and there’s no one I’d rather give presents to.” He said.

Joe grinned, aware of how downright soppy his expression must be, and took the presents. “I’m a lucky man. Thank you, Nicolò. I really appreciate this.”

“You haven’t seen what I’ve got you yet.” Nicky laughed, and finally snuggled back under the covers and towards Joe.

Joe carefully opened the presents (you never knew when you might need to reuse the paper) and laid them out in front of himself, his smile growing with each one. A doodle-journal. A bottle of fragrant bubble bath. A pair of fur-lined leather gloves that were more than a decent replacement for the hole-ridden pair he’d been battling with ever since December’s first frost.

“They’re perfect, Nicky. Thanks.” Joe threw his arms around Nicky and pulled him into a tight embrace, and Nicky laughed and did his best to hug back.

Before Joe could settle down to enjoy his breakfast properly he scrambled under his own side of the bed, and retrieved the presents he’d carefully stowed there the night before. Nicky’s mouth dropped open when he saw, and Joe couldn’t help but laugh.

“What, you really think I wouldn’t get you anything?”

“You didn’t have to.” Nicky said weakly, but he was smiling.

“I didn’t. But I wanted to.”

Joe watched as Nicky opened his presents, an odd mix of excitement and nervousness pooling in his stomach as he carefully watched Nicky’s face. He needn’t have worried- Nicky’s face as he unwrapped his present was a vision, his eyes widening in delight as the large knitted sweater fell out of the paper and onto his lap. He shrugged into it immediately, pulling the sleeves down over his hands and turning to Joe with a look of pure joy.

“Grazie, Joe.” He said.

“You missed something.” Joe said with a smile, nodding to the small card that lay amongst the discarded wrapping paper. Nicky picked it up and narrowed his eyes to focus on the text.

“I bought you a goat…” he flipped the card over, “but I gave it to someone who needed it.”

“It’s an outreach program, providing farming supplies and training to struggling communities. I _nearly_ bought you a toilet but I figured the goat was cuter.”

“Joe…” there were tears in Nicky’s eyes as he carefully placed the card on his bedside table and turned to face him. “This is the best Christmas in years.”

Joe laughed. “And we still have the whole day ahead of us.”

Nicky smiled dreamily as he picked up his coffee. “We do indeed.”

*****

It was dark when Nicky and Joe finally left the soup kitchen, the corny Christmas songs that they’d played over lunch still echoing around his head as they drove to Andy and Quynh’s. He hadn’t been aware he’d been humming under his breath as he drove until Joe started singing along, doing a surprisingly good Mariah Carey impression.

In all the years he’d known them, Nicky had never once had to actually ring the doorbell on Andy and Quynh’s house. Andy had an uncanny ability to sense exactly when she was about to get visitors, and every time without fail managed to yank the door open before Nicky’s finger had made it within an inch of the doorbell.

“Happy Christmas guys.” Andy grinned as she opened the door, causing Joe to take a startled step back. “Say, Nicky, I didn’t realise you were planning on feeding us for a week.”

Nicky looked ruefully down at the large Ikea bag full of food at his feet. “I wasn’t sure what Americans had for Christmas dinner, and I wanted it to be a surprise for Nile so I just… made everything.”

“And I helped.” Joe added with a grin. “Those sprouts are all me.”

Andy wrinkled her face at the mention of sprouts, but she was quickly pushed to one side as Nile came running over to the door.

“I heard my name.” She said, a rumpled paper hat perched on top of her braids and her eyes wide with excitement. She pulled them both into a crushing hug. “Happy holidays, guys! Or Christmas, whatever. Happy Friday maybe I guess? Oh! Food!” Nile was practically vibrating as she embraced them, and Nicky laughed as he hugged her back.

“Buck’s fizz for breakfast, sorry.” Andy supplied helpfully, and Nile smacked her playfully on the shoulder as she withdrew from the hug.

“Nothing to apologise for.” Nicky smiled and pulled Nile into another hug. “We’re just glad we’re able to celebrate with you.”

“Great!” Nile beamed and took them both by their hands and dragged them into the sitting room, pulling them along with a surprising amount of force given their relative sizes. “Now just sit there, I’ll go get you some champagne. Don’t move.”

Nicky watched fondly as Nile ran from the room. Day drinking aside, it was good to see her in such high spirits; he had been slightly worried that no matter what they did she would still feel melancholy about not being at home. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Andy lugged the bag of food into the kitchen, and tried not to wince when she caught it on the lip of the doorstop.

“Go.” Joe laughed. “I don’t think Nile will hold you to not moving.”

“I’ll be right back.” Nicky promised, and pecked Joe on the lips just as Nile came back with the champagne. He passed Andy leaving the kitchen and found Quynh inside, a neatly starched apron thrown on over her clothes and her hair tied back in a sharp ponytail.

“Nicky!” she grinned when she saw him. “Sorry, I would have come and said hello but I was up to my elbows in washing up.”

“It’s alright.” Nicky kissed her on the cheek then went to rummage in the Ikea bag, piling its contents up on the kitchen counter.

“Right, these need to go in the oven now-ish at about 180, these need to stay chilled and these will need a few minutes in the microwave each.” Nicky listed off the various pots and tupperware containers as he took them out. “These potatoes have been roasted in lard and those ones in vegetable oil, so you might want to keep them separate.” He continued. “And I made extra nut roast because I _know_ Andy will insist on trying it even though she'll hate it, and I wanted to make sure you had enough.”

“You’re an angel, Nicky.” Quynh kissed him on the cheek. “Now get out of the kitchen and enjoy yourself, you’ve already done more than enough.”

“If you need a hand just-“

“ _Out_.” Quynh said firmly, and Nicky allowed himself to be pushed out of the kitchen.

“Darling?” Quynh called from the kitchen, and Andy poked her head around the sitting room door. “Nicky is _forbidden_ from lifting a finger. If you see him making a break for the kitchen you must sit on him.”

Andy grinned wolfishly at him. “I can do that.”

Nicky ambled back into the sitting room and settled next to Joe on the sofa, taking the champagne glass offered to him and taking a grateful swig. Yes, he preferred to be kept busy one way or the other at Christmas, but it was still nice to put his feet up at the end of the day and just _relax_.

“So, buck’s fizz for breakfast, huh?” Joe asked Nile.

“Urgh it was so good.” Nile said, slumping back onto her own sofa and patting Andy on the knee. “These guys have spoilt me rotten, I can’t believe I’ve never come to stay before.”

Andy laughed and adjusted Nile’s paper crown. “We just want you to have a good Christmas, kiddo.”

“And I am, I really am. I know this isn’t what you’d all normally be doing but... I love that you’re here. I love you all so much.” Her eyes sparkled with tears as she looked at them, and Nicky only stopped himself from scooting across to her sofa to hug her by Andy getting there first.

“I’m sorry.” Nile sniffed and pressed the back of her hand to her nose. “I told Andy not to let me drink too much before we had food. I’m just so happy I still get to spend Christmas with some sort of family.”

Nicky heard a sniff coming from beside him, and was only a little surprised to see Joe’s eyes also watering. He gave him a consoling nudge of the shoulders and Joe thanked him with a smile.

“Anyways.” Nile took a deep breath. “It just means I get to have a second Christmas when I finally make it home. I’m quite lucky, really.”

“Have you managed to book another flight home yet?” Nicky asked.

“Yeah, there’s one on Monday I can-”

“Hold that thought.” Andy said abruptly, standing up and striding out of the room. Nicky heard her opening the front door, and a second later Booker came into the house.

“Seb!” Nile exclaimed, and hastily put her champagne down in favour of running over to greet him. “How were the kids? Did they like their presents? Did you say hi from me?”

“Good, yes, and absolutely.” Booker answered with a grin, leaning down to peck her on the lips. “And they wish you a very happy Christmas in return.”

He shuffled out of his shoes and coat and ambled into the sitting room, nodding in greeting to Joe and Nicky before collapsing onto the sofa. “I swear, they have twice as much energy at Christmas as they do the rest of the year.” He groaned. “I love them, but God help me I’m glad I’m not the one to have to put them to bed tonight.”

“How early were they up?” Joe laughed as Booker groaned.

“Gabriel got up before 6 and we had to send him back to bed. That lasted all of twenty minutes before he was up again.”

“There there.” Andy said. “Have some champagne.”

Booker took a long drink from his glass and sighed contentedly. “Anyways, how’s everyone else’s Christmases going?”

Nicky found it a little hard at first to allow himself to relax and try to resist the urge to poke his head into the kitchen to check on Quynh, but after he finished his first glass of champagne he found that he was able to ignore his urges. Mostly. He still couldn’t help but flinch every time he heard something drop in the kitchen, and one time jumped straight to his feet the second he heard Quynh swear vehemently in several languages, but he allowed Joe to tug him back down onto the sofa and sooth him by rubbing gentle circles into his knee.

After his second glass of champagne he’d almost entirely forgotten that there was cooking going on in the house that didn’t involve him, and he was content to curl up to Joe and chat and laugh with his friends as they swapped stories of their days. Booker linked his phone up to the TV and showed them all his rather jerky recording of his children’s school nativity.

“I never thought I’d see the angel Gabriel jump off the roof of the stable.” Nicky remarked as he rested his chin on his fist, watching the screen intently.

“He flew.” Booker corrected, more than a hint of pride in his voice. “And nailed his landing.”

The Gabriel on Booker’s video had indeed nailed his landing, accompanied by a less than angelic dab. Nicky suspected that Gabriel had got the part on the virtue of his name alone rather than any innate acting ability, but he was by far the most entertaining child to watch in the whole nativity. Jean-Pierre, bless him, seemed to have a case of stage fright in his role as sheep #3, and kept on forgetting to “baa” on cue.

“Where’s Leon then?” Joe asked, as the video dwindled down to the last few seconds without any sign of Booker’s eldest.

“Stage manager.” Booker explained. “He’s backstage giving all the other children their cues. Caused quite an argument with Gabriel in rehearsal I’m told but it was all fine on the day.”

“I was expecting more special effects.” Andy said with a grimace. “Something to give it some spice.”

“It’s a school production.” Booker said blandly, at the same time as Nile said “the Nativity is not _spicy_.”

“Alright.” Andy threw her hands up in defeat. “Just saying.”

They argued about the relative merits of adding “spice” to the nativity for several minutes, and the discussion was only put to an end when Quynh finally rejoined them from the kitchen.

“Well.” She said, discarding her apron onto Booker with a flourish. “I think it’s finally presents and nibbles time.”

“Great, I’ve got some mini frittatas for this-” Nicky stood up to retrieve them but was stopped by a steely glare from Andy.

“Sit down, or be sat on.” She told him. Nicky sat down. He’d known Andy long enough to recognise when her threats were serious and besides: she’d sat on him before to restrain him.

Joe volunteered to collect the snacks and open another bottle of champagne, and soon enough the sitting room was full of discarded paper and ribbons, boxes and cards being tossed between them until Nicky had lost all track of who’d given who what. The crisps Booker had brought and the mini frittatas were rapidly disappearing, to the extent that Nile solemnly told Booker to stop her from eating any more. Nicky _assumed_ he’d given Quynh her present at some point, for she was delightedly already lighting up her incense sticks, but it was equally possible that Andy had just spotted her wife’s name on something and decided to play Santa.

“You still haven’t opened miiiine, Nicky.” Nile pouted at him and gestured at a slim package hidden under a mound of paper by his feet. Nicky laughed when he opened it: Nile, in the year 2020, had burned him a CD and written out a neat track listing on the back of the case.

“You’re the only guy I know who still has a CD player.” She told him. “I knew I had to go old school.”

“It’s perfect.” Nicky told her, laughing as he read the songs she’d selected: they all had something to do with plants in their title, and he appreciated it immensely.

“Us next!” Andy announced, tossing Nicky a box wrapped in sparkling paper. He only just caught it.

“It’s a joint present for you both, really.” Quynh’s smile was worryingly sly. “I won’t judge who uses it.”

“Oh no.” Nicky muttered under his breath as he looked at the glittery box on his lap. “Do I want to open this?”

“I don’t know, do you?” Andy winked.

“I do.” Joe decided, taking the box from Nicky and shredding the wrapping paper.

“Oh my god.” Nile spluttered from across the room, spraying a good mouthful of champagne over the rug. Nicky made a strangled noise, a noise that was echoed by Booker.

He had to laugh: inside the box was a vibrator. A rather large and grey vibrator with a slight curve to it, covered in ridges.

“Quynh.” he said faintly, pointedly _not_ looking at what Joe was holding. “Why.”

“I know you, Nicky, you’d never spend this much money on something fancy.” Quynh said, and Andy nodded in agreement.

She had a point, Nicky admitted, but he didn’t say so out loud. Sure, he wasn’t exactly lacking in the toy department, but the vibrator he currently had was certainly of the “functional yet cheap” persuasion. It only had three settings, one of which didn’t even work anymore, and yet the monstrosity in Joe’s hands proudly advertised a selection of 20 modes.

“Thanks guys.” Joe said earnestly, given that Nicky was currently tongue tied. “This is very generous of you.”

“And _this_ is very generous of you, Book.” Andy added as she tore the paper off another present to reveal a packet of chocolates moulded into the shape of breasts.

“Shit, no, the breasts are for Quynh, Andy I got you some dicks somewhere.” Booker started frantically searching amongst the paper on the floor for the missing present. When he looked up from his rummaging his eyes narrowed, focusing on Nile. As quick as a flash he reached out and snatched the mini frittata that had found its way into Nile’s hand, quickly stuffing it into his own mouth. She made an outraged noise and turned to glare at him. “You said!” He protested.

“Well I didn’t _mean_ it.”

“I think,” Quynh said loudly, cutting the squabbling off, “the timer just went. Dinner time, everyone.”

“Finally.” Andy groaned. “Let’s go and argue over even _more_ food."

*****

To Joe’s immense delight, all of the sprouts he had cooked got eaten. Yes, he suspected that Nicky had eaten most of them in an attempt to compensate for the fact that Andy had flat out refused to even try them, but at the end of the day they had all been eaten and no one was sick. Yet.

They had all managed to make it back to the sitting room bar Nile, who had insisted on getting started on the washing up.

“I have to do _something_ today, to say thanks to you all.” She had said, shepherding them all out of the kitchen with a very Andy-like tilt to her eyebrow. Joe let her have her way for all of ten minutes before he decided that was probably enough.

“Let me.” He said as he nudged Nile gently away from the sink. “You don’t need to do it all.”

“Urgh _fine_.” Nile laughed, stripping off her rubber gloves and stepping aside. “How about I make some tea instead?”

“Sounds good.” Joe said, pulling on the discarded gloves and getting to work on the mountain of pots that still remained to be cleaned.

“I’m about 90% sure Andy only has gunpowder tea because of the name.” Nile mused as she took the various tea cannisters down from the shelves. “And urgh- this one’s lost the original packaging and just has a label on saying “red”. What the hell is red tea?”

Joe laughed. “Try it. I dare you.”

Nile opened the packet and took a tentative sniff, then wrinkled her nose. “I’m not even sure what that smells like.” She said. “I think I’ll stick to green. What would you like?”

“I _am_ tempted by the mysterious red.” Joe said. “But I think I’ll go for a classic black.”

“Cool.” Nile took out a couple of teabags and dropped them into the mugs. “I’ll go ask what the others want.”

She vanished from the kitchen and Joe could hear her muffled voice as she entered the sitting room. She didn’t come back. Joe didn’t mind: he’d finish with the rest of the washing up and then go and ask himself. He hummed as he worked, enjoying the somewhat cathartic task of methodically cleaning the pans. He and Nicky made a perfect pair when it came to kitchen work, he’d come to think. Nicky loved cooking but hated the clearing up, whereas Joe had little time for patiently following recipes and juggling cooking times but liked the mindless task of washing up. It gave him time to think, to let his mind wander and create all whilst being productive.

He was deep in thought about which flowers would look particularly striking as watercolour tattoos when he was jolted out of his musings by the sudden arrival of a very drunk Nicky.

“Joe. Joooeeee.” Nicky pushed himself up against Joe, hard. The champagne glass in his hand was thankfully empty, as the angle he was clutching it at was not conducive to holding anything.

“Hey, babe.” Joe took the glass from Nicky’s unprotesting fingers and dunked it into the washing-up water. “You alright?”

“Very.” Nicky said, leaning in to nuzzle against Joe’s neck. “I found something I wanted you to see: mistletoe. We should kiss. Now. It’s tradition.”

The branch that Nicky held up was definitely not mistletoe, and was almost certainly from the dainty basket of potpourri in Andy and Quynh’s bathroom, but Joe was of no mind to object. He kissed Nicky softly, enjoying the warm taste of gingerbread that lingered on his tongue under the stronger taste of champagne. Nicky melted into Joe as they kissed, his free hand reaching up to gently caress the nape of Joe’s neck as his tongue rolled and flicked against Joe’s own.

“You know.” Nicky swallowed when they pulled back, tossing the branch over his shoulder without a second glance. “I was thinking about our present.”

“Oh?” Joe laughed. “What about it?”

“About how I can’t wait to use it on you.” Nicky leant up slightly to tug on Joe’s earlobe with his teeth. “Twenty modes, Joe. Gonna make you come twenty times, one for each.”

Joe had to admire Nicky’s ambition. “I like the sound of that.” He said.

“Mmm.” Nicky agreed. “Tomorrow. It’s waterproof you know. Could fuck you in the bath, try out those muscle relaxant bubbles I got you.”

Nicky’s words were starting to have an effect on Joe: too much of an effect. Joe clenched his hands into tight fists in an attempt to calm himself down.

“Nicky, you can’t say these things to me, not now.” He said.

“Who else would I say them to?” Nicky’s eyes were all fake innocence.

“Nicolò.” Joe took Nicky’s chin in his hand and tilted it towards him for another brief kiss. “Please, hayati, I will not make it through the rest of the evening if you talk like this.”

“Ok.” Nicky rolled his eyes dramatically. “Well if you’re not going to play along I suppose I should tell you that Andy wants a black tea, I’m going to make Booker and myself some coffee, and Quynh wants something called “red”.”

“I think we can manage that.” Joe pulled off his rubber gloves and went to re-boil the kettle whilst Nicky busied himself with the espresso machine. The “red”, Joe worked out, was in fact just rooibos. He was slightly disappointed- he’d been hoping for something strange like cranberry.

Between them they managed to carry all of the drinks through to the sitting room without spilling a drop, and collapsed onto the sofa in a companionable silence. They were all tired of talking, it seemed, and Nile had found some festive reality TV show for them to watch. After such a full-on day it was nice to finally be able to switch off and just enjoy the company of others, and Joe found himself yawning as he sipped his tea and tried to at least vaguely follow what was happening on screen.

Nile was curled up asleep on Booker’s lap, and Booker himself was dropping off despite his coffee, his head drooping and then jerking back upwards at increasing intervals. Quynh had finally kicked off her heels and was instead wearing the pair of long fuzzy socks Nile had got her, dreamily stroking Andy’s hair as they both half-watched the TV. And Nicky...

Nicky was snoring, his partially-drunk coffee sitting dangerously close to the hand he had dangling off the sofa. When Joe went to gently nudge the mug out of the danger zone Nicky startled, hauling himself into an upright position. He had a tiny drop of drool at the corner of his mouth which he hastily wiped away as he turned to look at Joe. It was oddly adorable.

“Tired?” Joe asked, a smile playing on his lips.

“No.” Nicky said stubbornly on reflex, then admitted, “a little.”

“How about I call us a cab?” Joe offered, unable to stop himself from pushing Nicky’s fringe back from where it threatened to fall in his eyes.

“Stay here if you want.” Andy offered. “Assuming Booker’s bunking with Nile, we’ve got the other bedroom ready to go.”

Joe looked at Nicky to see what he thought of the plan, but found that he’d already drifted back off to sleep.

“That would be great.” He said. “Thank you.”

“Second door on the left.” Quynh murmured sleepily. “And if you intend on carrying him up the stairs make sure his feet don’t scuff the walls.”

“I can walk.” Nicky protested, forcing his eyes back open.

“Come on then.” Joe stood up and held his hands out to Nicky, helping to pull him to his feet. “Night, guys.” He said to the room, and received a half-hearted chorus of “goodnight”s in return.

To his relief he didn’t have to carry Nicky up the stairs, but he did have to help Nicky take his jeans and shirt off before he collapsed onto the bed. He debated about going back downstairs for a little while, but decided that everyone else would surely be heading to bed soon anyways. And besides, Nicky was looking _very_ comfortable tucked up in bed, and Joe was loathe to leave him.

He quickly stripped and joined Nicky under the covers, scooting up behind him and wrapping an arm around his middle. Nicky sighed contentedly and snuggled back into Joe.

“I’ve had a good day.” He mumbled. “Thanks, Joe. You’re the best.”

“My pleasure.” Joe grinned into Nicky’s neck.

“Joe. Yusuf.” Nicky struggled in Joe’s arms for a second but managed to turn himself around so that he was facing Joe. Joe could only just make out his features in the darkness, but he still felt Nicky’s eyes seeking out his own.

“I love you.” Nicky whispered. “I’ve wanted to say that for a while now, and it’s alright if you don’t want to say-”

“I love you.” Joe cut him off, feeling like warmth was spreading through his entire body as Nicky’s words echoed around his head. “I love you so much, Nicolò.”

“Good.” Nicky said, then leant forward to kiss Joe lightly on the lips. “Night, Joe.”

He turned back around to his original position, and Joe held him a little bit tighter. “Goodnight, Nicky. Merry Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I was once on a plane where we were going to be the last flight home, and then the de-icer machine crashed into us and grounded us. Three days before Christmas.
> 
> Also, I know holiday fics can be tricky, so if anyone has any issues with how things have been portrayed here please do let me know.


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